


The Great Pie War

by Amy_de_lABC



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alllll the Pie, F/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Oblivious Reader, Pie, Thankfully There's Sam, These Two Need Help, lots of pie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amy_de_lABC/pseuds/Amy_de_lABC
Summary: Sam decides to play a prank on Dean, and things get a little out of hand, which leads to Dean realizing a very important fact: he's in love with the reader.





	The Great Pie War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulofaWinchester67](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulofaWinchester67/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> This was a birthday fic for my lovely friend SoulofaWinchester67 a couple years back.
> 
> Inspired by:  
> http://kaz2y5-imagines.tumblr.com/post/97918449187/you-stopped-talking-mid-story-at-the-look-on  
> http://kaz2y5-imagines.tumblr.com/post/99458923732/hey-y-n-dont-you-have-a-tumblrface-or-snapbook  
> http://kaz2y5-imagines.tumblr.com/post/99546019717/awesome-sammy-really-great-work-there-dean

“Psst!”

You looked up from your computer to see Sam, trying valiantly to get your attention.  When he saw you were watching him, he beckoned frantically, grinning widely.  You shook your head, amused, but got up and went over.

“What?”

He jerked his head towards his room and walked quietly in that direction, leaving you to follow, completely bemused.

When the two of you arrived, you found Cas waiting for you, and you were even more bewildered.  “Sam, what’s this about?” you demanded, turning to him, noticing that Cas did so as well.  So the angel didn’t know why he was here either.

He gave you a very serious look, and said darkly, “Revenge.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You saw what Dean did to my computer.”

You couldn’t help grinning at the memory.  Dean—with help from a web site, you suspected—had taken a screenshot of the desktop to use as the wallpaper, so that the “icons” were unclickable (he’d hidden the real ones), and had changed the cursor to the little hourglass, which had made poor Sam very confused as to why his computer was constantly working on something.  Then, two minutes after the younger Winchester had sat back to wait for it to be usable again, the Blue Screen of Death had appeared, Dean having set a picture of it as the screensaver, and Sam had panicked.  The only thing that had pulled him out of his scare was the sound of Dean’s laughter across the room.

Sam pointed at you accusingly.  “I see that smile!  Stop it!”

“Sorry,” you said, grin widening.

He stared at you with one of those sassy Looks of his.

You laughed.  “Sorry.  Really.  It’s just…it _was_ pretty funny.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t let you help,” he grumbled good-naturedly.

You raised an eyebrow, curious now.  “C’mon, Sam.  Spill.”

He grinned, dropping the act.  “Remember the last time you and Dean argued about pie?”

You sighed.  It was a frequent occurrence—so common, in fact, that the instances tended to blur together in your mind sometimes.  Still, you were fairly sure you could recall most of what had happened last time. “Yeah.”

Nodding, Sam continued, “You said that sometimes you wanted to throw pie in Dean’s face.  And, well, it got me thinking…”

You took a step back, shaking your head.  “Ohhhhh, no.  You are _not_ roping me into that.”

“C’mon, Y/N,” he wheedled, giving you that puppy-dog stare of his.  “You said you wanted to.  And think how funny it’ll be.”

“I didn’t mean it,” you protested, but you could already feel yourself giving in to those big, sad eyes.

“Can’t you just picture the look on Dean’s face when he’s got pie all over it?”

You tried not to, but you couldn’t help it…and that settled the matter.  “Fine,” you groused, fixing him with a glare.  “But if he kills one of us, I’ll make sure it’s you.”

Sam grinned.  “I can live with that.”

“No, you can’t,” you corrected with a laugh, and he laughed as well.

Cas, who had been silently watching the two of you the whole time you were talking, now spoke up.  “I don’t understand.  Why do you want to throw dessert in Dean’s face?  Would it not be better to eat it?”

“It’s a prank, Cas,” explained Sam, looking gleeful.  “Because he played a prank on me by messing with my computer.”

Cas did his usual head tilt and squint, considering this answer.  Then he nodded.  “All right.  But why do you want our help?”

“Actually,” you said, looking to Sam, “that’s a good question.”

“Do you really think I could make something like this work on my own?” he asked you.

“I’m sure you’d find a way,” you answered dryly.

He shook his head.  “Maybe, maybe not.  But better safe than sorry.  And besides, we have an angel on our side.”  He looked at Cas.  “I think the best way to get this to work is to have you poof in behind him and get him with it from there.”

“You want me to…“poof” behind Dean, and put a pie in his face?”

Sam nodded.  “Like this.”  Before you knew what he was doing, he’d come up behind you and was demonstrating.

You swatted his gigantic hand away, trying not to laugh.  “Sam, get off me!”

“Not until I’m sure Cas understands,” he said, putting his hand back.  You grabbed it and tried to make him move away—which, of course, resulted in a small tussle.  This only ended when Cas announced, “I believe I understand.”

Sam looked at him, still gripping one of your wrists.  “Yeah?”

The angel nodded seriously.  “Yes.”

“Okay,” Sam said, stepping away from you and letting go.  You glared at him, but didn’t bother to argue…for now.  “Y/N,” he continued, as if you weren’t looking daggers at him, “you’re in charge of getting the pie, okay?”

Raising an eyebrow again, you demanded, “And what makes you think I’ll do it after what you just did?”

He grinned at you, not looking the slightest bit repentant.  “The fact that you want to see Dean’s face after this just as much as I do.”

You groaned, unable to refute that logic.  “Fine, whatever.”

“Great!” he said happily.  “You should maybe get two or three pies, just in case.”

“In case of what?” you wondered.

He shrugged.  “Better to be prepared for any eventuality.”  Then he came over, ruffling your hair.  “Thanks, Y/N.  You won’t regret it!”

You jerked away from his hand.  “Watch it, moose.”

But Sam simply grinned again, walking away down the hall.

He was much more like Dean than you had ever realized.

* * *

You were half-tempted to “forget” to buy the pie, just to spite the annoying man.  But the mental image of Dean’s face, covered in pastry and filling, was enough to override the desire to get even with Sam.  Thus, you went to the store the next day and bought three cherry pies.

As you pulled up to the bunker, you suddenly realized that hiding them from Dean was going to be a job.  You were convinced that the man had a built-in pie detector, with a range of at least several miles.

After some debate with yourself, you decided to keep them in your car.  You were due to play the prank later today, so they shouldn’t go bad.  Accordingly, you went inside and went about your day as usual.

After dinner, Sam called Cas in, and you told the angel where you’d put the pies while the younger Winchester went to distract the older one.  Then Cas left to get ready, and you got yourself back into the kitchen to help Sam, and, more importantly, to watch things unfold.

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked as you came in.

You shrugged.  “I dunno.  Went off on some kind of Heaven business.”  Shaking your head, you added, “We’ve gotta break him of that thing he does where he just…poofs away without telling you.”

Dean nodded, stacking the plates from the table and bringing them to the sink, then starting to wash them.  “Friggin’ angels.  Can’t believe he still does that.”

“Me neither,” you replied, coming over to dry.

“Hey, so you guys wanna take a break from research for tonight?  I was thinkin’ we could watch a movie.”

“Depends,” you answered.  “What movie?”

“‘Back to the Future.’”

Sam groaned loudly as he deposited the silverware and dirty pots near Dean’s elbow.  Dean, however, ignored this, looking to you with a grin.

You pretended to think about it.  “I don’t know…”

He put down the plate he was washing, turning to you again, eyebrow raised.  “Don’t gimme that, Y/N.  I know you love it.”

Just as you were about to reply, your attention was caught by Cas’ appearance behind Dean, with all three pies in his hands.  You grinned as, quick as lightning, the angel reached up and put one of them into Dean’s face.

_Splat!_

You started to laugh as Dean stood still, cherry filling and crust dripping down onto his shirt.  Then he turned to Cas.  “What was that, man?”

“It was a prank,” said Cas, obviously proud of himself.

Dean groaned, looking from you to Sam, who was also in stitches.  “And I wonder who could’ve _possibly_ taught Cas about pranks?”

The angel, obviously mistaking this for an actual question, answered innocently, “Sam and Y/N.”

The green eyes, which you noticed were nicely contrasted by the red pie filling, rolled.  “Thanks, Cas,” said Dean, with heavy sarcasm.  Then he seemed to notice the other pies.  “What’re those for?”

Managing to mostly stop laughing, you answered.  “They were in case something went wrong with the first one.  And yes, Dean, we can eat them.”

Dean nodded, taking them from Cas and pulling the top off of one.  Then he turned to you with a grin.  “Thanks.  But eating’s not actually what I had in mind,” he said, and, before you could even process his words, the pastry was in your face.

“Dean!” you gasped, sticky cherry goop getting in your eyes, nose, and mouth (though at least you didn’t object to that part of things.  For grocery store pie, it was pretty good).

Now Dean was the one laughing, along with Sam.  “Tell me you didn’t deserve that,” he gasped.

“I didn’t!” you replied indignantly, glaring at the moose whose fault this was.  “It was Sam’s idea!”

Dean shrugged, still chuckling.  “Here, then,” he said, handing you the last pie.  “Knock yourself out.”

You grinned evilly and looked at Sam, who had now stopped laughing.

“Hey!” he protested, scrambling out of the way.  “You agreed!”

Hefting the pie in one hand, you followed him silently.

“C’mon!” pleaded your prey, still backing away.

Dean grinned, watching you as you advanced on his brother.  “Want me to catch ’im for you?”

You looked over and nodded.  “Sure,” you said.  “Thanks.”

Dean launched himself at Sam, who yY/Nd and ran away.  Unfortunately—at least for him—he wasn’t betting on Cas, who had moved without anyone’s noticing it.  Sam crashed into him and went down.  There was a brief scuffle.

“Hey, Cas!  Hold ’is legs!” shouted Dean, dodging one of these flailing appendages.

Cas tilted his head.  “Why?”

“So Y/N can get him with the pie!” Dean answered, sounding exasperated.

The angel’s face brightened with apparent understanding.  “This is…another prank?” he asked.

“Yes,” growled Dean.

“All right, then,” nodded Cas, and came over to hold onto Sam’s legs, his face taking on its “Warrior of Heaven” expression.

You grinned while the trapped Sam fought, to no avail.  Then, as Dean put his brother in a headlock, you came over and gleefully pied the moose in the face.

Sam sputtered.  “Guys!”

“You’re the one who deserved it in the first place,” you told him, standing back and dusting off your hands with the air of someone who has finished a task well done.

As Dean let him up, the younger Winchester sighed, rubbing his neck melodramatically.  Then his gaze moved to Cas, who was still holding his legs.  “You can let go now, Cas.”

The angel’s blue eyes turned to Dean, who laughed.  “I dunno, Sammy.  Maybe I should have ’im keep you there.”

Sam gave Dean a Look.

“Oh, fine,” grumbled Dean.  “Yeah, Cas, go ahead.”

Cas accordingly let go, and Sam sat up, looking around.  “No more pies,” he noted with a grimace. 

There was an abrupt sound of wings, and then Cas was gone.

“Where’d he go?” demanded Dean, staring after him.

You shrugged.  “Maybe he really did go off on Heaven business this time.”

“Maybe,” conceded Dean.

You headed over to the sink, grabbing a napkin, hoping to save your shirt.  After wetting the napkin, you moved aside to let Sam wash up.  Dean came over as well, leaning against the counter while he waited his turn to get clean.

“So Sammy,” he started, raising an eyebrow at his brother, although Sam couldn’t see it, “what made you decide to throw a pie at me?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that,” huffed Sam.

“Well, I am.”

“Let me think…”  Sam’s tone was full of sarcasm.  “Could it possibly be what you did to my computer?”

Dean snickered.  “Oh, you mean my awesome prank that freaked you out so bad?”

Sam ignored him.

Moving closer to him, obviously trying to keep him engaged, Dean continued, “You gotta admit I did a great job with that computer thing, though.”

“No,” retorted Sam, “I really don’t.”

“Sure you do, Sammy.  It was hilarious.”

“Maybe for you,” the younger Winchester muttered.

You smiled as you watched them continue bickering, enjoying the brotherly feeling beneath the talk as you always did.  Having crossed the room and headed to the hall to find a towel, as your napkin was too small to do much good, you opened the cupboard where they were kept, grabbed one, and moved back into the kitchen, hoping to wheedle the Winchesters into letting you have the sink for just a second to wet it.

Then you stared, dumbfounded, as a walking stack of pie appeared suddenly in front of you, accompanied by Cas’ solemn voice.  “Is this enough pie, Sam?”

“It’s the Leaning Tower of Pie-sa,” you heard Dean say from the other side of the room, and you decided then and there to hit him with another pie just for the bad joke.

“Dean, I’m afraid you’re mistaken.  The Leaning Tower of _Pisa_ is in Italy,” answered Cas gravely, and you tried not to laugh, opting instead to dart forwards, snatch as many pies from Cas as you could hold, and then sneak around the angel to quickly slap Dean in the face with another one.

Naturally, he had had the same idea, as you discovered when one hit you as well.  Chocolate mixed nicely with cherry, you decided, licking at it thoughtfully.  And then Sam got you with a peach one, and all was chaos and pie.

* * *

When the war was finally over, all four of you, even Cas, were covered in pie and grinning widely.

Sam went to get towels (the one you had brought in earlier had been a casualty of the war, and now sat crumpled forlornly on the floor, as sticky as all of you were), and then wet them at the sink, handing them out.  Cas, naturally, didn’t need one, restoring his multicolored trench coat to its former self and removing the food from his hair, face, and hands with just a thought.

Watching him, you wished that you could do the same.  That would be so much easier, and it might even save your shirt—a feat you were pretty sure was impossible at this point.

“Waste of good pie,” grumbled Dean as he wiped the rest of his face, having licked all he could from around his mouth.

“If you think that, why’d you bother being in the pie war?” you retorted.

“You threw a pie at me first.”

“Yeah, well, you made a terrible joke.”

Dean only grunted in reply, too busy trying to work blackberry goo out of the front of his hair.

You sighed, beckoning to him.  “C’mere.”

“Huh?”  Seeing your gesture, he shrugged and came over.

You pulled him to stand directly in front of you, ignoring the butterflies your closeness created in your stomach, and the fact that your face was still half-covered in pie, and used a clean corner of your own towel to wipe carefully underneath his eye.  “You missed that,” you told him, trying to sound matter-of-fact.  “And here.”  Putting a hand on the side of his face to hold him still, once again ignoring your stomach and your pounding heart, you scrubbed a little at that stubborn spot in his hair.

Starting to step back, you noticed that he was studying you carefully.  “Need something?”  You found you couldn’t summon up your usual asperity with those green eyes on you.

“Nah,” he murmured, and looked away.

You nodded, swiping at the filling again.  You’d gotten most of it off by this point, but you could still see tiny specks of dark purple here and there.  Leaning forward even more, you started a search-and-destroy procedure for the bits, telling yourself that you just wanted to make sure his hair wasn’t sticky later.

A long, silent moment passed…and then you couldn’t keep yourself in check any longer, and glanced from his hairline to his face, which was wearing a very strange expression.

“What?” you asked, a little confused, and he seemed to start.

“Nothin’.  Just thinkin’.”

“Well, that part was obvious,” you said, feeling out of place and trying to bring back the banter.

Dean, however, seemed to be unwilling to participate at the moment.  “You done with my hair?” he asked instead, and you looked back up, finding that you were, as far as you could tell.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, and reluctantly stepped back.

Dean nodded and started to leave the kitchen, probably heading to his room to change clothes.  Halfway into the hall, he stopped and looked back at you.  “Uh…thanks,” he said.

“Sure,” you replied automatically, and he gave you a small grin and disappeared.

* * *

The next day, you woke up to a note:

_You owe me pie.  To eat._

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but it sounded good to you, too, so you decided to humor him.

Going to the store to buy the requested dessert, you were met with a gossipy girl behind the counter.  As she rung up your purchase, she laughed a little.  “It’s a good thing you came in for that pie today, and not yesterday.”

“Why?” you asked, not completely paying attention.

She leaned forward eagerly.  “Well,” she told you breathlessly, “yesterday started out pretty normal.  But _then_ , all of a sudden, this guy came in.  Really hot—black spiky hair and these gorgeous blue eyes.  Clothes looked like he did taxes or something—suit and trench coat, you know.”

You looked at her, interest spiking as you recognized the description, and a sudden suspicion crossed your mind.

“Anyway, he came in and asked for _all the pie we had._ ”  She giggled.  “Of course, I had to make sure that’s what he meant—but he _did_.  So he bought out our entire stock of pie!  And he somehow managed to hold onto it all…and _then_ ,” she added, voice lowering to a near whisper, “he _disappeared._   Right into thin air.  Just…poof!”

You expressed suitable astonishment and got yourself out of there as fast as you could.  Once in your car, you were free to laugh yourself sick.             

* * *

Two weeks had passed since the Great Pie War.  The four of you were busy researching for another hunt, and hostilities seemed to be over for the moment (you figured the boys’ craving for pranks had been pretty well appeased by throwing so many pies at one another).

Coming back to the library after a short break from your fact-finding, you heard exasperated voices and paused outside the room, a little surprised.  You would’ve thought that their cease-fire would last at least a little longer.

“—don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Sammy.”

Sam sounded as if he were grinning.  “Sure you do, Dean.  Come on, admit it.”

Sensing a possible blackmail opportunity, you inched closer, until you were almost in the doorway, and then poked your head into the room.  Neither of them was paying attention, so you stayed in that position, wanting to see as well, but ready to pull back as soon as either Winchester looked up.

“Admit _what_?” Dean growled, sounding defensive.  Whatever it was, you were pretty sure Sam was right.

“You know exactly what,” retorted his brother.  “Don’t think I haven’t seen those looks.”

You were fascinated to see the tips of Dean’s ears turn red.  “I think you’ve been doin’ too much daydreaming, Sammy.”

Sam shook his head, mock disapproving, judging by the side of his face you could see.  “Dean, I’m not letting up on this one.  Not after all the times you’ve poked fun at me about girls.”

You froze, suddenly tense, heart beating wildly.  Of course you knew Dean took up with plenty of girls.  That was nothing new, nor was the spike of jealousy you felt every time.  But Sam didn’t usually tease him about them…which meant this was something more serious.  You wondered who she was, and how you had missed the signs.

“Just tell her!” Sam continued.  “It’s not like she’ll reject you.”

You heard the raised eyebrow in Dean’s tone.  “Look, Sammy, I don’t wanna burst your bubble here, but I can think of plenty of reasons she’d say no.”

“And _I_ can think of plenty of reasons she’d say yes.  Starting with the fact that she’s head over heels for you.”

Dean snorted.  “Yeah.  Sure she is.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam returned, “Dean, you are so _blind_.  Both of you.  I can’t believe you don’t see the way she looks at you.  And I can’t believe she doesn’t see the way you look at _her_.  You’re obviously as much in love with her as she is with you, and—“

You suddenly found that you couldn’t listen to another word about this mystery girl, as jealousy was by now a roaring fire in you.  You had to interrupt.  So you walked straight into the room, sitting down at your workstation and reaching for a book without a word, hoping they wouldn’t talk to you so you wouldn’t betray your anger.

Despite wishing hard for silence, you were surprised and puzzled when it occurred.  Still, you didn’t dare risk lowering your book to see what was going on and letting them see your face, so you just sat there trying to calm down.  Dean had every right to be in love with someone.  Your inability to get rid of your stupid little crush on him was no reason he shouldn’t fall for whomever he chose.  After all, you’d always known he wouldn’t look twice at you, so why should he not be happy with somebody else?  (Eventually he would, of course, get around to asking this woman out, whoever she was.  At least you hoped so…  You _did_ want him to be happy.  It just hurt that it wouldn’t be with you.)

Time passed ridiculously slowly as you tried desperately to focus, attempting to ignore the picture that kept popping up in your head of Dean kissing some faceless blonde.  You got into the habit, after a few times shoving down that image, of glancing at the clock to distract yourself.  Unfortunately, this method wasn’t working too well.  It had only been ten minutes since you came in here, and you had looked at the clock at least fifteen times.  Still, you persisted, not wanting to get up and leave for a while longer, lest you make the Winchesters suspicious about your mood.

And then, quite suddenly, you heard Sam’s voice.  “This is so stupid, you guys!  Just admit it already!”

You froze, trying to process what he had said, heart thudding.  Lowering your book slowly, you stared at him.  Maybe he meant something else.  He couldn’t possibly be saying what you thought he was.

Your eyes were drawn to Dean, who was glaring at his little brother.  “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about, Sammy,” he said, just as he’d done earlier—although perhaps a bit more forcefully.

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah, Dean.  We get that you’re in denial.  But really?  You two have been completely crazy for each other since day one.  Everybody knows it but you.  And the last couple of weeks have been some of the longest of my life.  Dean, you gotta stop mooning over Y/N—you’re making yourself look stupid.”

Dean was now giving Sam a look so furious that if he had been Cas, you were pretty sure the younger Winchester would have been smitten by now.

Said little brother, however, was completely ignoring the glower directed at him.  “Now, I’m headed out to take a break.  You two talk.  Figure this thing out, already.  If I come back and the pair of you are still pining for each other, I might do something we’ll all regret.”  He started to leave the room, scooping up a couple of books along the way.  As he passed you, he bent down and whispered in your ear, “Happy birthday.  I know it’s a little early, but…  I hope you like your present anyway.”  And before you could say anything else, he was gone, leaving you to sit shell-shocked in your chair, vaguely remembering that it was, indeed, your birthday tomorrow.

With the disappearance of Sam, Dean’s rage seemed to vanish as well.  The result was a Winchester more flushed and flustered than you thought you had ever seen him.

He was silent for a couple of minutes, red in the face and not meeting your eyes, and you began to wonder if he was ever going to say anything.  That being the case, you thought maybe _you_ should speak, and started to blurt out an apology.

“I’m sorry about—”

“I guess you—”

You stopped as you realized that he had tried to talk at the same time.  Knowing that your own face must be as crimson as his, you stopped, and then mumbled, “Um…go ahead.”

He nodded and opened his mouth.  It took a second for words to come out, though.  “I, uhh…I guess I can’t really…  I mean, Sammy pretty much covered it all.  There’s, uh…there’s not much left I can say.”

You gaped at him.  “So…so he was _right_?  I mean... _me_?”

He stared right back at you, apparently bewildered.  “You say that like it’s a surprise.”

“It is!”

This seemed to confuse him even more.  “Why?”

You looked away.  “Because you’re—you’re, well… _Dean_.  And I’m not…I mean, I’m not your type.  I’m not…”  The words were apparently determined to take up residence in your throat, and not leave.

His footsteps crossed the room toward you, and stopped right beside your chair.  Then he knelt down in front of you so you could see his face instead of his shoes.  “Hey.” He took your hands and waited until you met his gaze.  “You are _completely_ my type,” he told you earnestly, and those green eyes said the rest:  how he thought you were beautiful, and smart, and strong, and how very much he loved you.

You blinked at him, unable to deny the tenderness in his look.  Then, recovering yourself a little, you put a hand to his cheek.  He leaned into the touch, looking as if he was savoring it, and you smiled.  “Dean,” you said softly.

“Yeah?”

You had been intending to tell him that you felt the same, and maybe more, but you couldn’t find the words…so instead you leaned down to kiss him, putting all your emotions into the gesture.

He seemed to understand, and you once again felt his care for you as he reciprocated, one hand still wrapped around yours, the other arm coming around your waist to pull you closer to him.  His kiss told you how much you meant to him, and you couldn’t keep a smile from blossoming at the warmth you felt and the sheer love emanating from both of you.

It was a little while before he pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours silently.  Your eyes were still closed, enjoying the embrace, and your arms were around his neck.

“Y/N?” you heard him murmur.

“Yeah?”  Opening your eyes, you found him wearing one of those life-ruiningly charming smiles.

“Guess after somethin’ like that, I gotta ask you to, uh…be my girlfriend.”

You were pretty sure that you were one of very few people in the world who would have noticed the flash of nervousness in his eyes as he asked.  Smiling widely, you kissed him again, and replied softly against his mouth, “Guess after something like that, I have to say yes.”

* * *

The next day dawned, and you were surprised and touched by the effort the boys put into your birthday celebrations.  Sam seemed to have been general organizer.  Judging by the food, Dean was in charge of that part.  And Cas had worked very hard to decorate, although several of the balloons had apparently burst because he’d blown them up too enthusiastically, and the presents he had wrapped were slightly sloppy.  Still, it was wonderful, and you knew that they’d all put their best efforts and their affection for you into it, so it really didn’t matter.  To be honest, you had expected a more…normal day, what with the case and all.  But all three of them insisted that you take at least the afternoon and evening off, so you couldn’t do much except capitulate (especially when Dean pulled you aside and kissed you as incentive).

Your presents were great.  Cas—most likely with guidance from one or both of the other two—had bought what looked to be a month’s supply of your favorite kind of chocolate.  Dean’s present was care supplies for your gun and your favorite knife.  And Sam had given you a bracelet with a protective sigil.

“As well as your other present,” he added with a grin as you opened it.

“What other present?” asked Dean with a puzzled frown.

You, however, didn’t reply; you just laughed and kissed him.

After the gift-giving and hugs (and kisses, in Dean’s case) were over, you all sat down around the table, and they brought out a chocolate cream pie, candles stuck haphazardly in it.  You grinned as they sang to you, unable to help laughing a little at the way Cas looked so pleased with himself and his knowledge of this tradition, while Dean sang with much enthusiasm but went wildly out of tune.  Then you blew out the candles, and wished that you would all be safe and reasonably happy for the coming year and beyond.

“What’d you wish for?” asked Dean from the seat next to you, eyeing the pie hungrily.

“She can’t tell, Dean,” Sam reminded him, before you had a chance to answer.  “Otherwise her wish won’t come true.”

“I don’t understand,” said Cas, with his usual confused look.  “Why would she have wished for something?  And why would that wish have any less chance of coming true if she were to tell us what it is?”

Grinning at the Winchesters’ sudden reversion to childish behavior, you explained, “It’s birthday tradition, Cas.  You blow out the candles and make a wish.  And I have no idea why the wish won’t come true if you tell what it is, but that’s what people always say.”

“I see,” said the angel slowly, processing this.

By this point, Dean seemed about ready to explode.  He reached over and took the knife from Sam, who was watching the conversation between you and Cas.  “Gimme that.”  Leaning forwards, he made short work of pulling the candles out, and eagerly sliced into the dessert.  You were surprised and flattered to note that he gave you the biggest piece—barely.  Once the two of you each had a slice, he sat down and let Sam serve himself, much to your amusement.  Meanwhile, Cas watched with interest.

You dug in and sighed in bliss as the delicious, flaky pastry and rich filling touched your tongue.  “Mmmm,” you hummed happily.

“Made it myself,” mumbled Dean around a mouthful of pie.

You looked at him with a smile.  “Thanks, Dean.  It’s great.”

He grinned, looking self-satisfied, and took another bite.  You went back to eating as well.

After a little while, Sam finished his dessert, picking up his plate to take to the kitchen.  “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he said on the way out.

You grinned and nodded at him.  “Thanks.”

He nodded back, and then turned to Cas.  “Hey, can you come help me clean up?”

“All right,” the angel agreed, and disappeared, presumably into the kitchen.  Shaking his head, Sam went after him, leaving you alone with Dean—most likely intentionally, you reflected with a smile.

You were so busy savoring the wonderful dessert that you were completely caught by surprise when your face was suddenly hit by smooth, cold filling.

“What—?!”  You turned your head sharply, pie still coating your cheek, and stared at the culprit.  “Dean, what’d you do that for?”

He just grinned even more brightly than he had before.  Then he leaned close to you, whispering in your ear, “Y’know when I realized I was…”  He faltered for a second, but then continued, “I was in love with you?”

Your heart pounded at his closeness and at the words.  “When?”

“Right after the pie fight.  When you were standin’ there cleanin’ me up, with pie drippin’ off your face…just like you look now.”

Suddenly, the strange expression that you remembered him wearing then took on new meaning.  Feeling a warm glow blossom in your chest, you gave him a soft smile. Then, on a sudden impulse, you cut a piece from your own pie, dropped it from the fork into your hand, and, as his eyes widened, slapped it onto his cheek.

He blinked at you, looking bemused, and you grinned at him, leaning close to examine his face.  After a moment, you moved even closer, whispering to him in return.  “Well, look at that.  Now I’ve realized I love you, too.”

He laughed, and then pulled you to him and kissed you soundly.


End file.
